


Make you feel (your heart break)

by jijal



Category: BTOB (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27348655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal/pseuds/jijal
Summary: Changsub had been on more dates than he’d ever wanted to, had let Minhyuk install one dating app after the other on his phone, but no one to caught his interest. And no one made him feel, but Minhyuk.
Relationships: Lee Changsub/Lee Minhyuk
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Make you feel (your heart break)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atemzug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atemzug/gifts).



> my dearest minsub enthusiast, i am not sure i did such a great job keeping this a secret from you but oh well, here it is — please accept this humble offering that is my attempt at minsub fwb, somewhere between almost substance and substance. (3/4 substance). this isnt anywhere near as good as it should be but i mean it when i say i _really_ enjoyed writing this - and while it may just be silly fwb fic, i like to think there are things to unpack here... kinda subtext, kinda not, so i hope it can do as much for you as it did for me.
> 
> tl;dr long live minsub fwb ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و
> 
> _~~(and this is totally not me feeling bad for never finishing my fic for les atres round 2)~~_

Morals aside, Minhyuk's on and off relationships weren't more than an inconvenience to Changsub. He knew what to expect when Minhyuk started seeing someone new: a week or two, sometimes a month of radio silence outside of work, until Minhyuk’s interest faded and they’d eventually fall back into the swing of things when it all ended. And end it always did, without fail.

Changsub knew better than to ask a lot of questions; he didn’t really care, either. It was none of his business, and he understood all too well why Minhyuk did the things he did, that he’d been through the motions so many times, they’d started to lose all meaning. The difference between them was that Minhyuk had yet to give up, to grow tired of dating and faking commitment, unlike Changsub, who was only willing to put up with the unpredictability of it all because a night of sex was on the line.

The both of them weren’t made for something serious, that much he’d figured out. He was counting on it, even. He’d been on more dates than he’d ever wanted to, had let Minhyuk install one dating app after the other on his phone, but no one caught his interest. And no one made him _feel_ , but Minhyuk.

Of course, they’d given their relationship a try, but it never clicked, and they didn’t work out. Or, the only thing that _did_ work was sex. Minhyuk didn’t make Changsub’s heart race, his palms sweaty or his face flush. He made his dick hard. And that was enough. It was more than anyone else had ever managed to make Changsub feel. At last, a sense of excitement, of want. Minhyuk could conjure it with the snap of a finger, and Changsub was happy to feel something, anything at all.

“Haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” he mumbled in a half-hearted attempt to keep his voice down. The unusual bustle of their co-workers scurrying around outside of the conference room was enough to make any conversation between the two of them go unnoticed, even though the glass walls didn’t necessarily provide a lot of privacy.

It’d been four, almost five weeks since he’d last been with Minhyuk, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that Minhyuk hadn’t as much as dropped the name of the guy he was seeing, Changsub wouldn’t have brought it up. He didn’t like to be nosy, prided himself on not caring, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling inside of him telling him that something was off.

“Yeah, I,” Minhyuk stopped himself, a quiet scoff slipping past his lips. “I’ve been busy.”

Changsub couldn’t blame him. The move meant a lot more hours for everyone, as the company tried to juggle relocating to a new office building, and their usual load of new orders and on-going lawsuits all at once. Changsub had walked past it at some point, and it certainly didn’t justify the amount of nights he ended up staying at the office. It was a drop of grey in a grey ocean. Nothing short of depressing.

“Right,” he mumbled, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and letting his eyes wander across his desk. He wasn’t sure how he had any thoughts left to spare on sex himself.

“You wanna come over this weekend?” Minhyuk asked, and Changsub perked up his eyebrows.

“You sure?” he asked back. “That… that stuff can wait.”

“I think I deserve a night off.”

Changsub’s held his gaze for another moment, and then redirected his attention to the computer screen in front of him in silent agreement. He didn’t want to draw any attention from co-workers, let alone their superiors onto them, and the sooner he worked through all the contracts his boss handed down to him, he could go home.

Nothing had changed about Minhyuk’s apartment in the month Changsub hadn’t been there. Not that he had expected it to, but it was assuring to find everything the way he remembered it. Minhyuk’s bed was neatly done, his condoms in the bottom drawer of the nightstand, and things fell into place with ease.

Minhyuk had perfected the art of making Changsub lose all sense of time; he couldn’t tell how long it’d been when they finally came back down to earth, back to the real world, still out of breath and their heads light. The room became quiet, and Changsub could already feel himself get sleepy. He forced himself to sit up and put his underwear back on and made his way into the bathroom.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find a used condom in the small empty bin standing by the door. It couldn't have been older than a day or two, and something inside of him shifted. He didn’t dare to try and pinpoint what it was, because he’d never cared in the past who Minhyuk was seeing, he wasn’t supposed to, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t hoped his suspicions not to be proven true.

The thought of Minhyuk keeping someone a secret from him already beginning to eat at him, he sat back down on the bed next to him, and tried not to picture the guy he must've been with the night before, silently watching him type out a text on his phone. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, not betrayal or envy — he barely felt anything, but a hint of fear. Whatever it was going on he didn’t know about, he didn’t _want_ to know about.

He hadn’t noticed Minhyuk putting his phone down, only snapped back to reality when he leaned in and pressed his lips against Changsub’s in a kiss so different to all the other kisses they'd shared. Less frantic, less messy and demanding; it was gentle, _comforting_ , and Minhyuk’s face lit up in a mischievous smile when he pulled back again.

“What was that for?” Changsub asked, staring at him.

“You look like you just saw a _ghost_ ,” Minhyuk said, breaking out into an amused chuckle. “You didn’t like it?”

He faked a little pout, and all Changsub could think to do in response was give a small scoff. His brain was still trying to catch up and make sense of Minhyuk.

“Actually I… I’ve been,” Minhyuk rose to speak again, but faltered, shaking his head. The cheeky glint in his eyes faded, and was replaced by a small, unsure smile gently tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ve been meaning to tell you… about this guy I’ve been seeing?”

Changsub had never seen that kind of smile on him, that look in his eyes — so dreamy, so soft, and so clearly seeking his approval. Changsub’s head was wiped clean of anything intelligent to say.

“I really like him,” Minhyuk continued, “and I don’t know… for how long we— we should… you know. Keep doing this.”

Changsub’s stomach did a flip.

“Hyung, that’s great,” he managed to say, his mouth faster than his mind for once. He wasn’t sure he’d really understood what Minhyuk was asking of him. “If you’re getting serious…”

The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat, he was forced to will a smile onto his face to try and match Minhyuk’s somehow.

“I think so, yeah,” Minhyuk said, giving a small, shy nod. “Everything feels so different with him.”

“Really, that’s great,” Changsub said again, his conversational skills completely leaving him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” Minhyuk offered weakly, twisting the soft fabric of the comforter between his fingers. “We’ve both been drowning in work, it didn’t feel right to bring it up.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

It didn’t hurt as much as it left Changsub feeling helpless.

“I’ll be going, then.”

“Oh—no, why?” Minhyuk’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “You don’t want dinner or something?”

Changsub used to think Minhyuk was so ridiculously easy to read. When he didn’t get time to think over his reaction, or come up with some kind of cheesy line to say. Changsub could read him like an open book. It was endearing, in a way. He liked him best when he was unfiltered, caught off guard, almost.

But for all the times the real, unfiltered Minhyuk peaked through, there were times he was equally perplexing. For every honest answer he gave, he was hiding two more secrets — Changsub just didn’t know until he did. He spent days, nights, weeks racking his brain over their kiss, over the reason behind it. If Minhyuk had had any reason, at all. And he only stopped thinking about it the morning he found out that Minhyuk had been relocated.

Part of a different team within their company, and thirteen stories between their respective new offices, Changsub was left with nothing to do but wonder why. He didn’t want to intrude, wasn’t one to text, had had a long day at work and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. His excuses were mounting, each more ridiculous than the last, but if no one else was around to hear them, they were enough of a justification for him not to reach out again.

Maybe they were better off this way. Minhyuk could live his life, and Changsub could live his.

He didn’t miss Minhyuk in a way anyone would’ve understood, anyway. Wanted him back for all the wrong reasons, like his smell still clinging to the sheets in the morning, or the contrast of his tanned skin against Changsub’s. It was the details, the little, meaningless things that were the most vivid, burned into Changsub’s mind to serve as a painful reminder.

It all comes rushing back to him, hits him like a wave strong enough to knock him off his feet when he opens his apartment door and comes face to face with Minhyuk.

It must’ve been two months if not three, but Changsub doesn’t get the time to really think about it; he can barely close the door behind them before Minhyuk is shoving his tongue down Changsub’s throat and gets him to follow him into the bedroom.

There’s no alcohol in his breath, not even the taste of cigarettes in his mouth, but Changsub still gets to drown in the familiarity and comfort that is Minhyuk’s body when all their clothes are lying on the floor and there is nothing between them to keep them apart anymore. His chest pressed against Minhyuk’s back and his face buried in MInhyuk’s neck, he can’t bring himself to care that he’s but an affair, that Minhyuk is cheating on his boyfriend of who cares how many months with him.

“Faster,” Minhyuk says at some point, “actually _fuck_ me,” and if it weren’t for the tremble in his voice, the harsh, demanding tone would have Changsub believe Minhyuk was trying to talk dirty, to get him riled up even more than he already is. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough Minhyuk got him hard the second he barged into the apartment. It made Changsub question how he could go three months with no sex, at all.

He comes before Minhyuk does, but he can’t tell if he’s early, or if Minhyuk is late; the last time they were this out of sync was when they were only a few dates into their relationship that never ended up working out. It’s a dumb thing to dwell on, really, but he figures that’s what happens when people grow apart.

“Sorry,” Changsub breathes out.

“It’s fine, just—“

Minhyuk doesn’t need to ask twice, it’s the least Changsub can do after everything Minhyuk has given him, has let him feel for the first time in forever.

The least he can do is express his gratitude in the form of a sloppy hand job.

A few moments later, Minhyuk cries out, and buries his face in his hands, as Changsub’s are coated white. He only stops when Minhyuk’s come down from his high, and he only sees the tears running down his temples when he lets him, sitting up with his back against the headboard. He lets out a shaky exhale, and averts his eyes down to the messy sheets.

“What’s wrong?” Changsub asks carefully, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and wiping his hands clean. It gives him an excuse to look away, to occupy his mind with something that isn’t his bloodshot eyes, erratic rise and fall of his chest, or the way his muscles tense up every time a new wave of hot tears stream down his face. Minhyuk looks too vulnerable like this.

“I missed you,” he breathes out, and forcefully swallows down a sob. He shakes his head. “I just missed you.”

If the ticking of the clock hanging above the door, or the endless traffic on the street outside the window was any louder, it would’ve drowned out Minhyuk’s answer. Some part of Changsub wishes it had.

“Things not going good between you two?”

“No, they are, but…,” he trails off. “I don’t know.”

Silence stretches between them, and with each second that passes, Changsub feels the weight on his shoulders double and the urge to ask questions he doesn’t want to hear the answer to becomes almost impossible to ignore. The more he thinks, the more he wants to say, but he can’t— he shouldn’t. He has no right to get involved.

Instead, he cups Minhyuk’s face with one hand and pulls him close, presses a short kiss to his lips, that taste of salt, and their last night together.

It hurts to remember. Changsub tries not to.

“It’ll get better.”

“It’s not the same with him,” Minhyuk says, _protests_ , and Changsub knows what he wants to hear, what Minhyuk wants him to say. It’s that look again, begging for approval. As if Changsub had the power to make all the wrongs right, and the immoral okay.

“Hyung, this is just sex.”

But Minhyuk would be a fool to put his relationship on the line. All those years he’d spent looking for that special someone, that someone that would make him stay — Changsub can’t let him make a choice so impulsive, so short-sighted, because _this_ , this is just a misstep. A mistake he’ll regret in the morning. Nothing more, and nothing less.

“I’m sure you’ll… figure it out,” he says, but no amount of badly feigned confidence would stand a chance against the endless stream of tears trickling down Minhyuk’s cheeks, or the pained expression contorting his face. They’re overwhelming. Changsub hates the way they make him feel.

“But why—why can’t I stop thinking about you?” Minhyuk asks, the frustration finally spilling over and turning his question into an accusation.

“I can’t give you what you need,” is all Changsub says, and he wishes it were different.

He would give anything to know what their kisses must feel like to Minhyuk. If they let butterflies come to live, or fireworks go off inside of him. If they take his breath away, or send shivers down his spine. He wonders what it’s like not to be denied that kind of luxury, and what it feels like to be in love.

Minhyuk must know; they’re different that way.

The tears barely dried on his cheeks, he gets dressed and leaves with a quiet _I’m sorry_ as he turns to look at Changsub one last time, and Changsub lets him go as the world silently collapses around him. He feels his heart, shattered into pieces, and the dread eating him up from the inside; but then he buries his face in the pillow, his room is quiet, the world is dark and all he smells is Minhyuk.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jungsilhoon) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/9094) | [btob fic exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/btob_fic_exchange)


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